You Son of a Joker!
by Lalealy
Summary: When Jeff tries to hide in probably one of the smallest villages in California, he meets a strange little orphaned boy who calls himself BEN. (Yaoi Jeff the killer x BEN Drowned)
1. Prologue

_Drip...drop_

Blood dripped on the ground. In the darkness of the night its color seemed to be black.

A tongue licked the same body liquid off a sharpened blade.

Footsteps sounded as a figure clad in a white hoodie and plain black jeans started walking towards the back door of a small family home, leaving a crumbled corpse of a woman behind, her features not recognizable anymore.

The figure stepped out into the garden and started scanning its surroundings in search for a way out of the crime scene without having to go through the front door.

Crawling through a hole in the garden fence it now stood under a lamppost, revealing itself to be a teenage boy with unnaturally white skin, mangy black hair, lidless eyes and a smile carved into his cheeks.

The boy started sneaking away, trying not to alert the people that were still awake and on the streets.

When he was further away from the houses the boy started running to his current hiding place in the nearby forest that lined the west-side of the village.

He didn't have to run for long as he came to a small abandoned hut. Opening its creaky door he went inside and took off his blood soaked clothes.

Finally he jumped into the bed and laid a wet cloth onto his eyes, falling asleep quickly.

* * *

**So this is the prologue. It's my first story and I hope it doesn't sound as weird to you as it does to me. :/ English isn't my first language, so if you see mistakes, strange sounding sentences and most importantly stuff that doesn't make sense, please tell me so I can get better. This will be a yaoi story between Jeff the killer and BEN Drowned (Yaoi means boyxboy). I think it's obvious that I don't own these two. There will be gory scenes as well as sexual ones, so be warned. **


	2. Dust everywhere

It wasn't the first time, that he stood in a dark room, watching a person sleep. No, it even was a routine.

He stood there, like many other times, hidden in the shadows of a corner, his eyes fixed on the up–and downfall of the blanket. He counted the seconds that flew by quietly in his mind and waited, without really knowing for what.

After a while of waiting, he became impatient and started to walk as loudly as possible to the bed in front of him. The loud footsteps woke the person, a middle aged man, who bolted upright in bed and froze when he saw a boy standing before him. The eyes of the man widened. He seemed to recognize the teenager.

Jeffrey Woods. Best known as Jeff the Killer. A serial killer who's face was a standard occurrence on the news nowadays.

Before the man could run away or scream for help, Jeff had already pounced on him and rammed a knife into his throat. Precisely in the middle. Yes, he was experienced in this.

Gagging and gurgling noises filled the room. Blood splattered on the bed sheets and the pillow, which, in Jeff's humble opinion, resulted in a beautiful pattern. Then he cut a smile into the man's cheeks, because he wasn't exactly a feast for the eyes and needed to be made presentable.

He almost started to giggle, when he reminded himself that this wasn't manly at all. Instead the room resonated with laughter that for most people would have sounded malicious and insane.

Then the world began to blur...

...

...only to focus again when Jeff woke up.

He frequently had dreams like this and he loved them. Unfortunately though, they never satisfied his lust for blood that grew stronger everyday. That was something only a real murder could still.

He took the now dry cloth, that he soaked in water every time he went to sleep, off his eyes and climbed out of the bed that stood in a corner of a little hut he currently hid in.

Yawning and stretching simultaneously, he let his eyes wander through the place, hoping, that something had changed. But everything was still the same. It was the same small hut that he had found by accident. Dirty, old and unbelievably dusty. Jeff didn't know how often he had sneezed already, but he was sure that the number was rather big. Naturally the hut also didn't have any electricity or water, but that was something that he could live without. He always either stole water bottles or bought some with stolen money and he didn't need electronic devices.

With a rumbling stomach he went over to a shelf with a few cans on top of it. He grabbed one, which one didn't matter as they all tasted like shit. If it was up to him, he would stop eating altogether but he was just a human. A very extraordinary human, mind you, but still just a human and he needed food to function.

He took a seat at a small table, opened the can with expired beans and grabbed an old spoon that he had taken from his last hideout.

As he was eating he started to recall an escapade of a few weeks ago that had left him in the present situation and could have taken his life, if he hadn't been as experienced as he was.

...

The young killer had been stepping out of a house, that had been filled with live not so long ago, when he heard multiple wails of sirens getting louder.

Apparently someone had seen him sneaking around and had called the police. Unfortunately he had been too focused on his kill to hear the noise outside immediately.

He tried to run away, but quickly noticed that the cars had come from all directions, effectively caging him in. The men with those suits he detested so much were climbing out of their cars with their guns drawn and pointed at him.

Nothing happened momentarily as both sides stared at each other.

Then, the moment Jeff dared to move a step forward, he was met with a barrage of bullets. Due to his incredible agility and speed he managed to avoid most of them, with only a few grazing his skin.

After taking out three officers without many complications and making his way through the wall of cars, the boy made it to his shelter in the cellar of a house. He was unharmed.

Deeming the situation as too dangerous, he packed the few stolen belongings he had and ran. Just away from the cops.

Eventually he found a forest and after an hour long march a street. Two round lights could be seen coming closer from afar. A car.

Good.

When the vehicle came in sight, Jeff could identify it as a timber transporter.

_Very good. _

Acting quickly he jumped on it, found a safe place to stand and held onto the ropes that bound the wood together. The pile of wood was triangle shaped, which made it all the more easier for him to climb up and make himself comfortable. He spend hours on the transporter until it drove past a place that piqued his interest.

The probably smallest village he had ever seen with a name he didn't care to remember.

The village in whose forest a small hut stood, forgotten by the residents.

...

The clank of the spoon snapped Jeff out his thoughts. It had fallen from his hand and onto the ground.

The can was empty. He tried not to think about the fact that the contents of it were now in his stomach.

He stood up and walked over to a stool with a bunch of clothing laying on it. They weren't laying there for long, yet still there already was a thick layer of dust residing on them.

After he got rid of the all the dust, he dressed and observed himself. He wore a regular gray hoodie paired with blue jeans and white sneakers that were already worn out. He didn't really care that much about good clothing, he was beautiful no matter what he wore.

Gradually he became more and more thirsty. He searched everywhere but couldn't find any full water bottles. It seemed like he had to go to the village again.

The problem was, that he had just killed a woman there a few days before and couldn't simply walk outside without looking suspicious. Well, to be fair, it was actually not so hard to look suspicious in such a small place. The resident all knew each other, and when a stranger suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and also kept his face hidden the whole time, then the people were practically obligated to stare warily.

He didn't need this kind of attention right now. This would only lead those idiotic policeman to him again and he was sure that they were still searching for him. He was just too dangerous and they couldn't afford losing his track.

His current standpoint wasn't too far away from his last one, although very unknown. Still it would be easy for the officers to attribute the murder a few days ago to him, even though he had attempted to make it look as uncharacteristic as possible. The woman hadn't been in her bed. She hadn't even been near the bedroom when she had been murdered. She also didn't get a smile cut into her face. Jeffrey could only hope, that this would be enough to at least lower the chance of being connected to that crime.

Slowly but surely he couldn't ignore his body's cry for water any longer. He had to stay fit, after all. Usually he didn't like to walk among other people in the daylight, but had discovered that the shops weren't open in the evening anymore. Ah, these guys made a lot of fuss about a single dead woman. How ridicules.

He could've done worse.

He sighed, put some sunglasses on and bound a scarf around his neck and mouth, obscuring the most important parts from view. His trusty kitchen knife went into the big pocket of his hoodie.

Then he stepped outside on the terrace, closed the door and started on his way to his personal hell.

* * *

**Hey guys! :D My first story and already 4 months without an update. Grreeat start! xD This chapter is much shorter than I wish it would be, but I wanted to establish Jeff's situation first. I try to make the next chapter much longer!**

** Guest: Yay! You're my first reviewer ever! I would've replied to your question earlier, but I couldn't since you were a guest.**

**I hope you still remember that you even wrote it. xD My mother language is russian, but since I was born in Germany, german is the language that I know the most. I speak, think and dream in it, lol.**


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